


Can I Get You a Drink?

by alkjira



Series: Under the Influence [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender!Fíli, Dorks, F/M, M/M, writer!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1997445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bilbo <em>Baggins</em> is here,” Ori hissed to Fíli with something approaching unholy glee. “<em>Here!</em>”</p><p>“And what does Bilbo Baggins want to drink?” Fíli asked and nodded down at the notepad in Ori’s hands. When no answer was immediately forthcoming the blond rested his elbow on the bar disk and grinned at his friend. “Or did you forget to ask as you ascended into a cloud of hero worship?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can I Get You a Drink?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amusewithaview](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/gifts).



> amusewithaview wanted Bilbo/Fíli, this was what happened.
> 
> There will be (at least) one more story to this verse, but I'm not sure when.

“Bilbo _Baggins_ is here,” Ori hissed to Fíli with something approaching unholy glee. “ _Here_!”  
  
“And what does Bilbo Baggins want to drink?” Fíli asked and nodded down at the notepad in Ori’s hands. When no answer was immediately forthcoming the blond rested his elbow on the bar disk and grinned at his friend. “Or did you forget to ask as you ascended into a cloud of hero worship?”  
  
“I did not,” Ori sniffed. “I didn’t do any of those things.”  
  
“Out with it then,” Fíli prompted. “Can’t let the country’s bestselling author go thirsty can we? Is it just him or…”  
  
“Just him, and he’s having dinner as well. He’d actually booked a table in advance but Nori didn’t tell me!”  
  
Fíli considered Ori to be a good friend, so he held back any comments about how that was probably a good move or Ori wouldn’t have gotten anything done due to being busy flailing, and settled for making vaguely sympathetic sounds. “About the drink?”  
  
Ori blinked. “What?”  
  
“Bilbo Baggin’s preferred beverage of choice?”  
  
“Oh,” Ori’s eyes grew round. “Yes, oh gosh. Um,” He flipped through the pages of his notepad. “Right, white wine.”  
  
“Ori, we’ve got about thirty kinds of white wine, care to be more specific?”  
  
Again, because Fíli appreciated Ori’s friendship he did not snigger at the horrified look on Ori’s face.  
  
“I can’t believe I didn’t ask him what grape or if he prefers sweet or dry or-“  
  
“Then go ask him.” Fíli reached out and clasped Ori’s shoulder. “And tell him that you’ve read all his books three times each and apologise for being a dork. Start with the last bit. But right now I think it’s time for a deep breath.”  
  
“Right,” Ori nodded and sucked in a deep breath through his nose. “Right.”  
  
Fíli watched amusedly as he scurried off again.  
  
He’d only read one of Baggins’ books due to not really being an avid reader, and while that had been enjoyable enough Fíli didn’t really understand the need to treat anyone like they weren’t a normal person. Fine, the man wrote books that sold millions of copies, he still needed to eat, piss and sleep like a normal person. And drink, if Ori ever managed to get that sorted out.  
  
Hopefully the guy wouldn’t be a jerk, or poor Ori’s heart would be broken before it was time for the main course.  
  
“Think he’ll make it through the evening without fainting?” Tauriel drawled as she sidled up to the bar. “May I please have two gin and tonics, one mojito and a razer.”  
  
“Sure,” Fíli said and grabbed two glasses. “Question is if he’ll accidentally declare his undying love or not. And remember to specify that it’s for the guy’s brain and not the rest of him.”  
  
“He’s pretty cute though,” Tauriel said and shrugged . “He’s got a bit of an absentminded professor thing going on, and I’ve got friends who’d die for his curls. But not really my type.”  
  
“For which my brother is ever so thankful,” Fíli said and winked at her. Tauriel tried to look indifferent but she couldn’t quite prevent a small, pleased smile from touching her lips. “I hear you have weekend plans?”  
  
“So I’ve heard as well,” Tauriel said drily. “But he’s not telling me what exactly he’s planning. Should I be worried?”  
  
“Nah,” Fíli said as he poured the rum for the mojito. “I’m guessing you own a swimming suit, and you’re not afraid of sharks are you?”  
  
Tauriel tilted her head. “What?”  
  
“Sharks?” Fíli repeated. “Big fishes, lots of teeth.”  
  
“He’s not taking me to a place with _sharks_ ,” Tauriel protested.  
  
“No, he’s not,” Fíli said and smiled brightly at her. “But the look on your face just now.”  
  
“You’re an arsehole,” Tauriel grumped. “I should never have told you about watching Jaws when I was seven.”  
  
“So that’s why my brother got the girl and I’m cohabiting with a turtle,” Fíli mused. “I’m an arse.”  
  
“Shelly is much too good for you,” Tauriel agreed and sniffed disdainfully.  
  
“She’s not complained so far.”

“She can’t talk.”  
  
“How hateful.” Fíli shook his head and reached down to get more ice.  
  
By the time Ori returned from his oh so important mission Fíli was just bout done.

“He wants a sweet Riesling,” Ori breathed as he dashed in to stand next to Tauriel.  
  
“Bottle or glass?”  
  
Ori’s eyes grew wide again and Fíli tried and failed to hold in a snicker. “A bottle then. If he doesn’t want all of it we’ll make a toast out of it later. Just a sec.” He delicately plopped a few raspberries down in the last of Tauriel’s drinks and nodded at her as he put it on the oak tray.  
  
“There we go.”  
  
“Thanks, Fíli,” Tauriel said and smiled. “And you _better_ be kidding about the sharks.”  
  
“Sharks?” Ori asked, nose crinkling in confusion.  
  
“No sharks,” Tauriel said firmly as she took the tray and walked back to the main dining hall.  
  
“I’ll think we’ll go with this one,” Fíli mused as he plucked a golden capped bottle of Markus Molitor down from its place in the wine cooler.  
  
“Could you serve it to him?” Ori bit his bottom lip. “I just know I’ll end up pushing the cork into the bottle or something stupid like that.”  
  
“I could open it for you?” Fíli offered, but Ori shook his head.  
  
“I’ll spill.”  
  
“You’ll do fine.”  
  
“Please?” Brown eyes widened once again, this time in a mute plea. “I’ll only take a couple of minutes. I’ll stay here and watch the bar. I just, I can’t go out there again so soon. I'll- I can't.”  
  
“You don't need to watch the bar, it's hardly about to get kidnapped,” Fíli pointed out. “But, fine. I'll go.”  
  
“Thank you,” Ori said. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, crap. I should be getting his food order to the kitchen.”  
  
Fíli snorted and waved his hands at his friend. “Scram then."  
  
“You’re the best,” Ori breathed as he trotted off at a brisk pace.  
  
Putting the bottle down on the counter Fíli hunted down a corkscrew and used the little knife on it to cut away the foil around the cork. One screw, ten seconds, and a few quick twists of the wrist later the cork popped, and Fíli quietly snickered to himself about the bottle’s lack of stamina.  
  
Putting the corkscrew away; not bothering to pull the cork from it, Fíli crouched down to find the small BRB sign he used for his breaks and plunked it down in plain sight. He might as well take advantage of it being fairly quiet and take a breather while he had the chance.  
  
Patting his back pocket to check that he had the cigarettes he wasn’t really supposed to smoke as they invoked Ori’s puppy-dog eyes, Fíli grabbed the bottle and only then realised that he didn’t know which section Ori was handling today, and beyond Tauriel’s description he didn’t really know what Bilbo Baggins looked like either.  
  
Wasn’t staying away from celebrity gossip supposed to be a good thing? Where was this bad karma coming from?  
  
“Perhaps I shouldn’t have said the bit about the sharks,” Fíli mused as he squared his shoulders and prepared to hunt down a curly-haired writer.  
  
-  
  
“Mister Baggins?”  
  
Bilbo blinked as a waiter seemed to materialise next to him. He’d moved so silently that Bilbo hadn’t really noticed him standing there before he spoke.  
  
Or perhaps not a waiter after all as he wasn’t dressed as the young man who’d taken his order, or the other members of staff Bilbo had seen flitting about the room.  
  
Instead of wearing black trousers and a black button-down he had a dark blue shirt and grey slacks. But they did look to be in the same style as the black ones, and he _was_ holding a bottle of wine.  
  
“You are Bilbo Baggins, right?” the not-waiter asked, a small frown creeping across his handsome face.  
  
“Yes, sorry,” Bilbo said and shook his head. “Lost in thoughts.”  
  
“Brilliant,” the man said and flashed white teeth in a heartbreakingly endearing smile. “I’m Fíli, and I hope that you’ll allow me to serve you your wine?”  
  
“Please,” Bilbo said and mentally gave himself a good scolding for immediately jumping to other ways he could be of service. Bad form to even think about hitting on people whose jobs was depending on him opening his wallet. Even if they looked to be models and not waiting staff. Really, everyone he’d seen so far had been unfairly attractive, but perhaps it was not unreasonable to expect it in such a profession.  
  
“It’s a 2012 Markus Molitor Riesling,” the blond man explained as he took a step closer and gracefully tipped the bottle to let a mouthful of the golden wine pour into the glass. “Peach, pear and just a hint of raspberry.”  
  
The left corner of his mouth quirked up and Bilbo suddenly found himself being winked at. “Or so they say, but it’s a really lovely wine for all of that. Do try it.”  
  
More on reflex than anything else Bilbo lifted the glass and put it to his lips. “Oh.” He paused. “Should I smell it first?”  
  
“If you’d like,” the blond said and nodded. “But I can vouch for you not getting a mouthful of vinegar. To smell it is to tease yourself a little with what’s to come. Taking a sip is more about the instant gratification.”  
  
Bilbo shifted a little on his chair and sternly reminded himself that one could _not_ leave phone numbers when one was supposed to leave tips. Not even to adorable blonds wearing very tight trousers and who appeared to be unconcerned with who Bilbo was beyond someone planning on having a meal, and who could make wine-talk sound appropriate for the bedroom. It just wouldn’t do.  
  
Also, the man; Fíli, looked to be much too young for him anyway. Older than the first waiter, but definitely still in his twenties. Probably late twenties, but-. _No_.  
  
Lifting the glass to his lips Bilbo took a slightly too big sip and nodded before he’d really had time to taste it.  
  
“Yes,” he said after swallowing. “This-“ Bilbo paused and licked his lips. “I _can_ actually taste peach.”  
  
The devastating smile made another appearance as the waiter leaned in and covered Bilbo’s fingers with his own hand to hold the glass steady as he filled it. Setting the bottle down on the table he nodded down at Bilbo, smile widening a little.  
  
“I hope you’ll enjoy your meal.”  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said and then watched helplessly as the blond wandered off, appearing not to be at all concerned with how Bilbo could still feel the warmth of his fingers where they’d touched his skin. The opening lines from a poem he’d read only that morning immediately came to mind as the blond turned just before leaving the dining room, stopping to shoot him another brilliant smile before disappearing.  
  
 _The sun inside of him_

_rages like wildfire_

_and he is_

_gold_  
  
-  
  
Fíli was _definitely_ going to have a smoke now. As if dating his brother wasn’t proof enough of Tauriel’s questionable taste then calling that man something as measly as ‘pretty cute’ settled it.  
  
After seeing that pink tongue dart out to lick equally pink, plump lips… If Fíli hadn’t gotten out of there so quickly he would have risked shocking a room full of people with a very obvious erection. Perhaps he should inform the people with power over the uniforms that there were some upsides to baggy trousers that could make up for the more informal look.  
  
-  
  
Sipping on his wine and idly looking around the room (not looking for anyone in particular of course) Bilbo decided that he might as well go and wash his hands before his food arrived.  
  
As a pretty redheaded young woman; dressed in the same style of black trousers and black button-down shirt as his first waiter, passed the table Bilbo cleared his throat.  
  
“Excuse me, could you please tell me where I can find a restroom?”  
  
-  
  
Carefully propping the fire escape door up with a brick Fíli settled down on the top step of the small staircase leading out into the alley.  
  
Holding the cigarette between his lips the blond fumbled for his lighter. Which wasn’t actually in his pocket.  
  
Brilliant.  
  
He could go and get it but then he’d really end up being away much too long from the bar. It was early enough that there wouldn’t be a rush but he’d still feel bad to risk getting someone else in trouble by playing hooky. Some people got _really_ testy when their drinks weren’t prompt and plentiful.  
  
Annoyed, Fíli was just about to put the cig back in the pack when:  
  
“Want a light?”  
  
Fíli jumped a little at the voice as he’d thought himself alone, and when he saw the owner of the voice stroll towards him he quickly got to his feet and took a step closer to the door.  
  
“Not from _you_ ,” Fíli said coldly and glared down at Smaug.  
  
“No need for that,” Smaug said smoothly and smiled up at him in such a way that revealed far too many teeth. “Not when I’m here to do you a favour.”  
  
“Oh this has to be good,” Fíli said and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
-  
  
While in the bathroom Bilbo took the opportunity to splash some water in his face.  
  
“Act your age,” he muttered darkly to his reflection. “It’s not like you’ve never seen a handsome face before.” Or an arse in tight trousers.  
  
-  
  
Fíli couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing.  
  
-  
  
As the door to the restroom fell shut behind Bilbo, someone nearby started to laugh. The sound immediately made Bilbo’s own lips quirk upwards as it was such a pleasant one, and before he consciously knew what he was doing he took a step down the hallway; away from the dining room, and towards the direction the laugh was coming from.  
  
But he’d not yet taken the second step before he heard a voice he recognized all too well.  
  
 _Smaug_.  
  
Smaug Drake; the photographer who couldn’t seem to understand that Bilbo did not only value his privacy, but also that he was a _tragically_ boring human being. As Smaug hadn’t been able to dig up any dirt on him (the closest he’d gotten was one photo of Bilbo dressed in only a robe as he went to collect the morning paper) he’d become convinced that Bilbo was hiding something, something big. 

Bilbo supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised that Smaug was at the restaurant, he’d been in almost all other places he’d gone lately. The big question was probably why he wasn’t inside yet, with his camera ready to photograph supposed ‘news’.  
  
“Yes, very funny,” Smaug said just as Bilbo managed to locate the likely origin of his his voice; a door slightly ajar just a little further down in the hallway.  
  
“What do you want with him anyway? He’s a writer, not a pop star.”  
  
That voice was also familiar, but not because of overly polite phone calls that happened just infrequently enough that the police didn’t see it necessary to do something about it even though Bilbo had needed to switch numbers three times, no. Not because of that.  
  
“Right, just a writer who has sold millions of books and is rumoured to be up for a Nobel.” Smaug sounded impatient. “Just tell me if he’s in there.”  
  
“He is,” Fíli said and Bilbo’s heart sank. Right, this would go on record as both the shortest dinner and shortest crush in-  
  
“But _you’re_ not getting in. Beorn already knows not to let you get in through the main entrance and you’re not getting in this way. Try and I’ll report you for trespassing.”

Bilbo blinked. Or perhaps not.  
  
-  
  
"I'm not an arsehole like you, Smaug," Fíli scoffed. "And also, I quite like my job. Even if I was a sad excuse for a human being I wouldn’t risk losing it because I let you in. We do have a policy about things like this."  
  
It was a very uncomplicated one too, and one Fíli agreed with fully. ‘Don’t make the guest uncomfortable.’ And Smaug… Considering the way he made Fíli uncomfortable every time he came snooping around for a scoop he doubted that one of Smaug's actual targets would like it any better. Saying that the man was like a snake would be insulting to snakes.  
  
"Just for five minutes," Smaug wheedled. "I'll get a photo and I'll leave. I'll even split what I make with you. Or just tell me if he’s alone or dining with someone."  
  
"Even if I believed you’d keep your word I wouldn’t agree to it.” Fíli curled his lip up in a smile that wasn’t the least bit intended to be friendly. “Go _away_. You're not getting in. And I’ll let Beorn know you're around so he can make sure you stay away from the front as well."  
  
And entirely beside the point, but even though Fíli had only read the one book he doubted that Bilbo Baggins would ever be picked to receive a Nobel prize. Not that there’d been anything wrong with what he’d read, but when was the last time a widely popular writer got a prize like that? Oh, around… never. And he could be wrong, but Fíli was rather convinced that no one that attractive had ever gotten it either, so that was two strikes against Baggins.  
  
Waving cheerfully down at Smaug; who was practically seething with annoyance, Fíli went inside again, making sure to both carefully close and set the alarm on the door. Turning around he bumped into someone his brain automatically assumed was Ori, as Ori was usually the one sneaking around to see if he’d been smoking or not.  
  
"I wasn't smok- oh."  
  
Only it wasn’t Ori. There was a very obvious lack of Ori in the hallways. A lack of anyone who wasn’t-  
  
"Hi,” Bilbo Baggins said and smiled up at him with sparkling hazel eyes and softly curved, very kissable lips.  
  
-  
  
“I heard what you said to Smaug just now.“  
  
To Bilbo’s surprise Fíli winced and awkwardly dragged a hand through his hair. He looked like a little boy about to be scolded. “Sorry about that.”  
  
“No, no,” Bilbo protested. “ _Thank you_. For a moment there I thought you’d let him in, and I really appreciate it that you didn’t.”  
  
“Of course I didn’t,” Fíli said and looked earnestly at him. “Mister Baggins, we-“  
  
“Bilbo,” Bilbo murmured. Then he mentally slapped himself for his tone of voice and cleared his throat. “Call me Bilbo.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Fíli said and took a step towards him. Was it Bilbo’s imagination or was there a look in those blue eyes that hadn’t been there just a moment ago? “I- crap.” Blue eyes closed and when they opened again… If there _had_ been a look, and there probably hadn’t, then it was now gone.  
  
“I’m really sorry, but I need to get back to my work.” Again a broad hand with long, sturdy fingers made its way through Fíli’s hair, tussling the blond strands into an artful disarray.  
  
Further lines from the same poem as before snaked through Bilbo’s mind, but outwardly he merely nodded.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
As he was left standing alone in the hallway he told himself that he wasn’t upset.

-  
  
Fuck, that had been close.  
  
Behind the safe refuge of his bar once more Fíli poured himself a glass of water and pocketed his lighter which he’d found on the shelf with the whiskey bottles.  
  
Kissing guests was not the best way of _not_ making them uncomfortable, but it’d been so tempting. He’d just needed to lean down a little and then their mouths would have been perfectly aligned, and he would bet a week’s pay on how Bilbo would make the sweetest noises…  
  
Fíli muttered a curse as he realised he’d left the man standing in an empty hallway. Not that he wouldn’t find his way back to the dining room, but still, that’d been rude.  
  
Twice now he’d more or less run away, but at least that might make for a nice change? It was probably more common for people to chase after him, being talented, rich, attractive...  
  
With a snort Fíli picked up the corkscrew he’d used before and worked the cork lose. Right. Like someone serving drinks for a living would have a chance anyway. Arda might be a fairly fancy restaurant, but that did not change that Fíli was pitifully out of his league. What he made in a month was probably what Bil- Mister Baggins made in a day.  
  
The blond scowled. And why was he thinking about this anyway. Unless Bilbo- Mister Baggins decided to come to the bar for an after dinner drink he’d probably not even see him again. Ever.  
  
That probably shouldn’t make something unpleasant settle in the pit of his stomach.

Fuck.  
  
-  
  
The food was lovely, or so Bilbo supposed because the people sitting at the tables around him seemed to enjoy it.  
  
-  
  
Right. So he was _never_ teasing Ori about celebrity crushes ever again.  
  
-  
  
“Was everything to your satisfaction?”  
  
Bilbo made himself smile at the young man. Ori, yes. That was what he’d introduced himself as.  
  
“Yes, thank you, Ori. If I could have the bill please?”  
  
“Of course, Mister Baggins.” An earnest nod, a shy smile, and then the lad all but galloped away, presumably to get the check. Most definitely not to get a certain colleague gift-wrapped and bundled up for Bilbo to take home.

Bilbo tapped his fingers against the table as he curled the fingers on his other hand around the stem of the wineglass.  
  
Esme would probably accuse him of having a midlife crisis if she’d known how much of his dinner had been spent thinking about his handsome young waiter. And then she’d bully him into leaving his phone number.  
  
 _‘If you don’t try, you’ll never know,’_ she’d said before making him send the draft of his first novel to three publishers. She’d been unbearably smug when they’d all replied and offered him to publish it. But his lovely cousin wasn’t always right, as the ice skating incident of ’99 would prove as that had led to nothing but a bruised coccyx.  
  
Still, it had been fun for the ten seconds it’d took for him to lose his balance.  
  
Perhaps…  
  
“Mister Baggins, sir?”  
  
Bilbo looked up and again managed to get a smile to settle on his face as he put the glass back down without having taken as much as a sip.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
Ori slid the little round salver with the bill on the table and straightened up again. “I was wondering-“ he bit his lip. “I- It’s terribly rude of me, but may I please have your autograph? I’ve been a fan of yours ever since reading The Lucky Number.”  
  
“Sure,” Bilbo smiled, more genuinely this time. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”  
  
“I’ve read _all_ your books.” Ori fished a pen from his pocket and scrambled to find an empty page on his notepad. “But that one is still my favourite.”  
  
“Really?” It was actually Bilbo’s favourite too, which was perhaps sentimentally as it was the first novel he’d written. It was certainly not the book that had sold the most copies.  
  
With the ease from having done it a thousand times before Bilbo scribbled his signature on the thin paper. Hesitating, he added a small quote from The Lucky Number before picking handing the notepad back.  
  
“I really love it.” Ori carefully plucked the notepad from BIlbo's hand, treating it as if it’d suddenly turned to gold. “I was twelve the first time I read it and I didn’t really understand everything, but I still loved it. Every time I read it I still discover something new.”  
  
Now Bilbo’s smile was entirely free of artifice. “Thank you very much, Ori. That’s a wonderful compliment.”  
  
“Thank _you_.” Giving him another shy smile the young man nodded at him before turning away.  
  
“Wait, could I ask you a favour,” Bilbo blurted, before he could stop himself.  
  
-  
  
Fíli grinned at Ori as his friend all but floated into the bar area.  
  
“I’ve forgiven Nori,” Ori said dreamily. “Well, almost.”  
  
“Yeah?” Fíli said and poured a glass of water that he pushed in Ori’s direction. “As nice as he seemed then?”  
  
“Yes,” Ori sighed, then he looked a little guilty. “Really, he tipped me entirely too much considering the mess I made of things right at the start. Oh, and he wanted me to give you this.”  
  
Fíli put his hands behind his back. “I don’t want any money.” That would just be- _no_. “It’s not like I did anything else than pour him a bit of wine.”  
  
“It’s not money,” Ori explained and held out a folded piece of paper. “Maybe he signed his autograph for you as well?”  
  
Fíli managed not to flinch, just barely. That would almost be worse than money, if Bilbo had just thought of him as just another fan. But then again, maybe that’s how he’d seemed. The man had to be used to people admiring his work, and if more people than Tauriel had such horrid tastes then maybe he was more used to that compared to people admiring _him_.  
  
“Give it here then,” Fíli said and plucked the paper from Ori’s palm. Without looking at it he shoved it into his pocket.  
  
“You’re not going to look?” Ori asked, tilting his head.  
  
“I don’t want to make you cry if he made this one out to his biggest fan,” Fíli teased, more out of habit than anything else.  
  
“He did a quote on mine.” Ori sighed happily. “I wish I’d brought one of his books with me.”  
  
“Since you didn’t know he was coming that would be a little strange if you did.”  
  
“I think he liked the food.” Ori bit his lip. “I might bring one to put in my locker. Just in case he comes back.”  
  
To have Bilbo Baggins dining regularly at Arda… That was either a brilliant idea or an absolutely horrid one.  
  
All of a sudden Fíli needed to know what it said on the piece of paper and he jammed his hand into his pocket with enough force that he could hear the paper scrunching.  
  
“Be careful,” Ori protested.  
  
“I’m always careful,” Fíli said and flashed him a grin. “I’d not be allowed to control people’s alcohol intake if I wasn’t.”  
  
It was only folded once so it only took a moment for Fíli to see what Bilbo had written on it.  
  
 _‘I owe you one.’_ And then a phone number.  
  
“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Fíli spluttered. Ori stretched over the bar disk and gently pulled Fíli’s hand towards him.  
  
“That he owes you one?” his friend suggested after scanning the words. “I guess he _really_ liked the wine you picked.”  
  
Rather the way Fíli had gotten rid of Smaug for him, but no need to concern Ori with that. Smaug always put him in a bad mood; even without going after his favourite writer, and it’d be a shame to ruin the pleasant high he had going at the moment.  
  
The phone number… Would it really be Bilbo’s number? And if so what did he expect Fíli to do with it? What he wanted was not something that could be called in as a favour, and he was hardly about to ask for a reward for being a decent human being.  
  
Fíli almost felt insulted by the entire thing, which yes, that was probably stupid of him as he didn’t doubt Bilbo had meant it as a nice gesture, but _still_.  
  
The thank you he’d gotten had been perfectly suitable. No extras needed.  
  
-  
  
It wasn’t until the next morning that Bilbo saw the text.  
  
After glancing at his mobile once every ten seconds for a couple of hours, and without it ever beeping into life prompted by the right person, Bilbo had finally put it on mute and hidden it behind a couch cushion. He had never claimed to be a mature person anyway.  
  
As he retrieved it and unlocked the screen Bilbo saw the notification for three new texts, and one of them was from a number he didn’t recognize.  
  
‘ _You don’t owe me anything. /Fíli.’  
  
_ That was… not optimal, but Bilbo could work with it. And he could be brave. And pretend that his hands weren’t the least bit unsteady.

 _‘No point in offering you dinner then? One without tall, and scheming interruptions?’  
  
_ Not expecting to get an answer any time soon, if at all, Bilbo put the phone back beneath the cushion, but it had no sooner left his sight before he heard it buzz.  
  
 _‘Are you serious?’_  
  
Resisting to make a joke that no, he really was quite desperate for Smaug’s company Bilbo simply tapped three letters before clicking on Send.

It was half of an eternity before his mobile beeped again. But he was brave, and didn’t even hide it beneath the cushion this time.  
  
 _‘Would this be dinner, or *dinner*?’_  
  
-  


_‘I’ll leave that entirely up to you.’_

  
A slow grin spread over Fíli’s lips and it widened until his cheeks ached.

**Author's Note:**

> The poem Bilbo oh so dorkily thought about is by Emily Palermo, and you can find her tumblr here:
> 
> http://starredsoul.tumblr.com/
> 
> And the poem can be read in its entirety here:
> 
> http://starredsoul.tumblr.com/post/90896232367/the-sun-inside-of-him-rages-like-wildfire-and-he
> 
> (spoiler, it's _awesome_ )


End file.
